


Unshackling your mind

by Ilyasviel



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shibari, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilyasviel/pseuds/Ilyasviel
Summary: The one-eyed qunari seems to be distracted with anything and anyone, but his intelligent eye moves around Haven like a hawk, catching every detail. After so many weeks travelling with him and seeing him walking up and down the fence, Bull knows for sure that something is eating Solas alive. But he can't help the mage if he didn't want his help.Maybe this special mission will give him the chance for it...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lady_libertine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_libertine/gifts).



> My first try with them :P never wrote anything related to Solas or Bull, and never had described Shibari, but the idea was so tempting that I can't resist it ^^U
> 
> This is the prompt I 'used' to write this piece:   
> \- one of them has to rescue the other from danger (serious but not permanent injury ok, rape mention ok but no details if you go that route), hurt/comfort ensues
> 
> I tried to add some of the feelings pointed by my assignment >_<
> 
> Hope you like it! 
> 
> Aaaand no beta reader this time. All the typos are my own. Sorry if I attack so cruelly to your grammar, English is not my first language and some parts of your language escape my control T_T

Therinfal Redoubt. 

 

The mission to recruit the templars for the Inquisition has turned into a living nightmare. The Inquisitor has discovered that the high ranks of the order are under Corypheus’ control, and have been feeding red lyrium to the templars, turning them in submissive followers of the ancient darkspawn. They became monsters serving a dangerous evil, mindless slaves under his orders. The final battle with the envy demon has drained the energy of Castiel Lavellan. they had barely returned to Haven before the situation at Therinfal Redoubt worsened to the point Castiel had to take action. Bull offered the Chargers to go and investigate it, and Castiel can’t say no. Thinking about the magic used to protect the demon, Castiel decides to send Solas and Bull with the rest of the team. Better safe than sorry. He gives them orders to investigate,  and clean out the Fortress if necessary.

 

Solas keeps to himself, as always, almost all the trip to the ancient fortress, joining them  only to share \meals. Bull, having travelled with him and the Inquisitor before, knows Solas’ ways and didn’t pester him. However,  Bull had a harder time keeping the rest of the utterly merry and social Chargers away from the mage. The first night, he has to intercede to keep Skinner away from Solas when he criticized the People, offending Dalish. Bull decides to make a secondary fire for them, away from the Chargers, giving Solas the space he seems to need.

 

The second night of the trip, Bull and Solas sit in silence around the fire, the sound of the rest of the group singing and talking disturbing the peace of the night. They are eating their dinner in companionable silence, each of them has a bottle of wine beside their legs. The meal consists in a stew that Krem prepared as soon as they had set camp, seasoned with herbs Stitches provided and the meat of a couple of fennec Skinner and Dalish had hunted.    
  
When Bull finishes his plate, he puts the empty bowl aside, picking up the bottle of wine and taking a long gulp. The wine is a cheap and awful Orlesian wine, but they can't get their hands on anything better for now. Maybe they can make a little detour while going back and buy some good stuff somewhere, Bull thought.  He noticed Solas, who has finished his own stew and is sniffing the content of the bottle, disgust clearly written on his face. Bull chuckles softly, catching the mage attention. He takes another gulp from the bottle before putting it down, fixing his piercing eye on the mage.    
  
“I’ve been watching you fight. You're not as flashy as most mages, Solas.” The bald elf just stares at him with a raised brow, mouth fixed in the hard frown he usually wears. “You know, the Tevinter mages I fought in Seheron tried to scare us with what they could do. Damn, Dorian looks like he's waiting for applause after every spell. Vivienne has this little swagger... Like she knows she's the most dangerous thing in the room.” Still, there is  no answer from the mage except a little twitch on his mouth. Bull returns the little smirk, shrugging and tilting his head, “Not the quiet elven mage, though. No frills. Nothing to give you away.” With a chuckle, Bull recovers the bottle from the ground and drinks a long gulp, “Half our targets never even see you coming.”

 

The mage puts down the untouched bottle on the ground, nodding curtly to the qunari. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

 

“If you like.” The mage just lets his eyes move to the sky, deciding to ignore Bull. With a shrug, the qunari stands, braces grinding when he forces them to extend again. “I will leave you with your Fade. Good night.”

 

Solas doesn’t even answer him, just raises a hand, waving it slightly before staring intently into the dark sky over his head. Bull uses those few moments to observe Solas better. When he fights, his pose didn’t let anything go. But now, relaxed and calling the Fade to take him, Bull can read the tension in his shoulders, the fear of something dark and ugly cornering him, clutching his heart in a fierce grasp that makes life pass in front of him in a blur. That man is hiding something, and this secret is eating him alive from the insides. Time will see if Bull has the tools and ability to help him, at least to release some of the tension before he snaps. Tilting his head one last time, Bull leaves Solas’ campfire and walks to the one occupied by the Chargers. Nights were always fun around the fire with them.

 

The way to Therinfal Redoubt quickly turns into a long one. Halfway there, they are attacked  by a group of bandits. They dispatch them quickly, but not before one of them hurts Bull’s horse before falling under the combined spell of Dalish and Solas. Stitches do everything he can to treat the animal, and Solas gives a hand with some healing magic, but the limp on his back leg is too noticeable to add the massive weight of an armoured qunari to his back. They end walking the rest of the way, hoping that the animal will heal enough during the trip and the time they spend atthe fortress.

 

Each night, the routine of separated campfires is repeated. Bull sits with Solas to eat whatever the Chargers prepare, exchanging a few words between mouthfuls of food. After the second night of uncomfortable conversation, Bull tries another approach. “Nice job in that last fight, Solas. You really kicked the crap outta that guy.”

 

Swallowing the piece of meat in his mouth, Solas looks at Bull with a quizzical look. “I suppose.”

 

Bull burst in laughs, hitting his strongest knee, “What, you don't think so? You ripped him a new one. It was great!”

 

The mage fixes a stern gaze on him, “Unless the fight is personal, violence is a means to an end. It isn't appropriate to celebrate.”

 

“I don't know. Gotta wonder about anyone who fights as much as we do and doesn't have some fun with it.”

 

Solas shakes his head, “We have fought living men, with loves and families, and all that they might have been is gone.”

 

“Yeah, but they were assholes!” When the mage just snorts, Bull crosses his arms, “Besides, you are always defending that right of people to choose. Well then, they have chosen to fight us, whatever their reasons, in their own will. They have died as an effect of their choices.”

 

A soft chuckle escapes the usually stern elf, making Bull’s mouth twitch slightly, even when the conversation has turned more serious than planned. Solas gives him a half bow, “Turning my own words against me, well played.”

 

With a shrug, Bull extends his leg, using his thumbs to massage his stiff knee. “It is my work to be observant and remember things, Solas. And violence, even if you find it unnecessary, sometimes is like a balm to an unsteady mind or a stressed body. Now that I’m away from the methods I usually use to deal with my… let's say special needs, I burn some of that energy during battle.” Seeing the mage tilting his head in a very curious way, Bull keeps going,    
  
“How did you let off some steam? Because whatever you are trying, is not working. I can see the tension from here.” When Solas just shifts his position in the improvised bench, Bull knows he has touched a sensible point and decides to keep going, testing the waters. “Qunari accept that sex and violence are the best way to keep your mind centred. Some cravings have to be fulfilled to maintain a normal life.”   
  
Sensing that the other man is not in the mood to keep talking, Bull stands, like every night after the meal, “Just think about, Solas. I saw your concentration fail you more than once since we met on the Storm Coast. This shit is taking its toll on you. I can help you.” Leaving the circle of light from the campfire, Bull walks away, sitting beside Krem and keeping up his usual good humour while keeping an eye on the taciturn mage on the other side of the camp. Time will see if his words had sunk in Solas’ dense brain...

 

At last, after one week, they reach Therinfal Redoubt. The fortress is deserted, not even pillagers are moving around the stone walls. The aura of death and corruption can be felt even by the non-mage members of the group, and the full team sinks into a respectful silence as soon as they put a foot inside the walls. Bull takes the lead. He has been there with the Inquisitor when everything went south with the Templars. Stopping in the middle of the inner ward, he faces his team, weapon on hand, “Krem, take Dalish, Skinner and Rocky and take a look to the battlements and armouries. I want every document and book read and reviewed, and every box opened, every door checked. We’ll meet here in around an hour. Make Dalish scream if you need us, I will not hear your tiny voice across the castle.”

 

Krem shakes his head with a little smirk on his face. “Yeah, boss. As if you can hear us over the praising of your own ego... Now go and fake that you know how to work in the field without me pointing things to kill.” Beckoning to his designed team, Krem climbs the stairs of the battlements at double time. With a huff that can’t hide the chuckle, Bull points to the inner doors of the fortress, “We have the most fun  part of the fortress, all for us. Solas, let me know if you feel something strange with the Fade here--”

 

Solas raises a brow, looking intently at him while his hands are clinging tight to  his staff. “I feel something very strange with the Fade here, Bull.”

 

“Very funny, mage. If Varric were here, he would be applauding. Now let's move inside.”

 

The keep’s main hall is dark, and the smell of blood and burned meat fills their nostrils, even after all these days since the battle. The Templars have cleaned the rooms, giving the proper burial to their fallen brothers, even the ones that have fallen under the red lyrium curse. Taking the door to the inner courtyard, the stench of rotten meat and putrefaction hits them. Bull is on guard in a heartbeat, flashing red when he lets the blood rage takes control of him. Solas is behind him, flanked by Stitches and Grim. From the shadows of a stall near the far end of the open space, a terror appears. It opens its arms, shrieking to the sky and making a shiver run down Bull’s spine. Damn, he hates those creatures… Without a second thought, he charges against it, his battle cry resounding in the silence of the keep.    
  
Solas surrounds him in a barrier; the soft touch of the Fade around him always gives him the creeps, but he has grown accustomed. He still prefers the cinnamon scent that Dorian’s magic brings to him instead of the floral ones that he relates to Solas. Stitches and Grim followed Bull in his charge, giving him a backup in the attack with daggers and swords.    
  
Sadly for them, the terror hasn’t come alone, and a Shade appears from behind a column, going directly for Solas. No one sees it coming closer, not even the mage, who is distracted enough with the battle in front of him and his inner turmoil. Luckily for Solas, Bull is keeping an eye on him, having seen nights ago that something was keeping his mind occupied and fearing something like that could happen. With a cry, he throws himself against the shade, stopping the claws before they hit Solas’ back. They pierce Bull’s arm, making him growl before he smashes his elbow on the Shade's head.    
  
The spirit shrieks and gets ready for a second round, but Solas is back into the fray. He pushes the shade away, giving Bull the time he needs to prepare an attack and cast a new barrier around them. With a loud battle cry, the double axe falls over the shade with enough force to cut it in half. The demon tries to stop it, raising its arms, to no avail. The combined potency of the attack, the weight of his body after the jump, and the boost of the blood rage, breaks the defences of the shade; the edge of the axe pierces the shoulder and goes down until it crashes against the floor.   
  
Solas is still, looking at the ragged pile of clothes on the ground, when Bull passes beside him, arm bloodied and a determined frown on his face. Fixing his eye on Solas’, the qunari lowers his voice, just for him to hear it. “We will talk later.”    
  
Without waiting for the mage’s answer, Bull charges against the terror, who is still playing hide and seek with Stitches and Grim. Between the three of them and no further distractions, the demon falls to the ground in no time. Solas keeps his distance to Bull, researching the fallen enemies, while Stitches takes care of the wound on his arm.

 

They didn’t find any other enemy while they research the area, room by room, through every office and dorm around the main hall. Picking up books, documents, reports, and anything that looks important, they soon have a good loot on their hands and decided to come back to the horses before continue.    
  
Krem is already there. Some books stashed at his feet while he fixes another set on the saddle of his horse. He let his gaze roam over the team group, seeing the bloodied rag on the qunari's arm and the grim frown on Solas' face. Crossing his arms, he looks intently into Bull’s eye, “Can’t you wait for us next time? Walking battlements is not as funny as it sounds, and some action will have been a nice distraction, Boss.”

 

With a lopsided smile fixed on his face, Bull pats Krem’s shoulder before tilting his head, signalling the items the rest of the team is carrying in their arms. “We have to take a second look, wanna come? Maybe some demon will be happy to say _‘hi’_ to a cute little ‘vint like you.”

 

With a roll of his eyes, Krem keeps working on his bags while the rest of the team picks a part of the items Bull’s team has brought and stored them on the saddles of their horses. When everything is in place, Bull walks back to the main hall, guiding them across the web of offices and dorms until just the upper yard remains unchecked.

 

Stopping at the end of the stairs, he waits until Solas joins him. “Here. The demon summoned the barrier in this very room and hid upstairs. Do you feel anything stranger than before?”

 

Solas seems lost in his own mind, taking several seconds to answer Bull’s question. “The Veil is thin here. I can hear the spirits voices everywhere. But I can feel an artefact of the Arlathan days nearby too. If we can activate it, the tear in the Veil will close, and no demon can cross to our world without a correct summoning.”

 

Looking at the top of the stairs, Bull’s frown deepens. This place gave him the creeps since the first time he saw the fortress, but now it is even worse. If they can do something to clean the air, it must be done. Turning to face the rest of the group, he calls the team, “Krem, Dalish and Skinner, come with us to the upper yard. It seems we have to find some kind of shiny relic and activate it.” The axe has never left his hands since their first encounter, and he holds it securely while climbing the stairs, the rest of the team close on his tail.

 

The open space upstairs is just like Bull remember it. In fact, the brown stains of dried blood are still smeared on  the walls and ground where the sacrifices were made. The yard didn’t have any place to hide, besides the watchtowers on the corners. Krem moves to one of them while Skinner checks the other, with Dalish covering them from the middle of the yard with her _‘bow’_. Bull follows Solas around the perimeter while the mage searches for the artefact.    
  
At last, near the railway on the west side of the yard, the fallen globe awaits them. Solas pick up it from the ground, cleaning it reverently with his hands before placing it in its original spot, a little altar fixed to the wall. Touching the globe, his eyes turn into pure light, and Bull tries to remember if he ever has seen him like this before… not even in the hardest fights  has Bull seen Solas opening this much of himself  to the powers of the Fade. Bull can feel a wave of energy, constant like a heartbeat, flowing from the artefact when it begins to glow.    
  
Solas raises his face to the sky, the grey clouds that were surrounding the keep since they have seen it the first time start to clear up, shy rays of sunlight reaching the dampened ground. Closing his eyes, Solas grabs his staff in front of him, leaning on it before talking. “It is done. The tear to the Veil has been sealed. This place is safe again, at least as safe as anywhere on this plane can be.”

 

With a nod, Bull calls the rest of the team, and they return to the main hall, where the rest awaits. Coming back to the horses, they make a review of all the items they have recovered. They have books, lots of them, reports, private letters, some jewellery that must be examined, just in case it has something engraved on them, some paintings that have been taken off from their frames and rolled as securely as possible... They have recovered some weapons too, some of them infused with red lyrium. Those, Bull and the Chargers make sure, are stored in a box, inside another box, inside another box, and put on a little carriage they have found on the fortress. No way Bull will let any of his crew carry one of those abominations near their bodies.

 

When everything is ready, and the horses are saddled with everything fixed on them, Bull jumps on his horse, who is finally recovered from the wound and spurs the animal to a stroll. They have a long way ahead of them. 


	2. Chapter 2

The trip back to Haven was way quicker than the previous one. In three days, they are inside the walls of the little city. Bull has approached Solas the first night on the road, but the mage has asked him to wait until they reach the security of Haven to have that conversation.

 

Castiel calls them to a meeting at the war room as soon as they return, making some Templars help to unload the recovered items and storing them in the basement, where they can use the office down there to study them and decide what is essential and what isn’t. The weapons are stored in the farthest cell of the basement, keeping them closed inside the boxes and giving Leliana the keys for all of them.   
  
Bull explains to the counselors and the Inquisitor about what they have found, the demons they fought and how Solas has activated the artefact and closed the tear in the veil. The Inquisitor tries to coax Solas to talk over the war table, but the mage keeps getting him short answers and few explanations. When the young elf looks at Bull with a quizzical look, the qunari just shrugs. At last, Castiel finishes the meeting, calling them all to return tomorrow morning to plan the final attack to the breach. His words make Solas’ eyes open in surprise, and Bull notes this it too for their later conversation. 

 

He leaves the room the last, eyes taking a final look at the war table to memorise the mission tokens and the status of the deployments. To his surprise, Solas is waiting for him outside the room. “A word?”   
  
Bull nods and follows him outside the Chantry, walking silently until they reach the little cabin he has occupied. Opening the door, the mage keeps the door open for Bull, who has to bend his body to cross the doorframe. Once inside, Solas signals a chair in front of the bed, waiting until Bull sits to take a seat in front of him. 

 

Seeing that Solas is fighting to say the words, Bull decides to lend him a hand. “Have you thought about my offer?” The other man just nods, waiting for the qunari to continue. “It is nothing to be ashamed of, Solas. Minds are ugly things, and if you let them dwell for long, you fall into a spiral of despair. Our tamassrans taught us that exist ways to help a mind to clear the fog of madness before it goes too far. I know you have something eating you, and I will not ask about it. You will talk about it when you feel ready.” The little twitch on Solas’ face didn’t pass unnoticed, but Bull decides to ignore it. “But tell me, Solas. Do you really want my help?”

 

“I’m a proud man, Iron Bull. I need your help, but I don’t like it.”

 

Bull’s loud laugh resounds throughout the little room, “Good. Accepting that you need help is the first step. As you seem to hate violence, I will assume you are thinking of a more sexual approach?”   
  
When Solas breaks eye contact and gives him a stiff nod, Bull smile grows. _‘I’m gonna have fun with this one,’_ he thinks. Crossing his arms over his chest, Bull looks intently into Solas’ eyes. “Seeing that the march to close the Breach will be soon enough, do you want to do it tonight? I can be ready in an hour.”    
  
Another curt nod, “Then find me in an hour at the old apothecary house that lays outside the city.”    
  
When Solas looks at him with a raised brow, Bull winks at him, “I can come here, but I don’t know how vocal can you be or if you even want to be seen with me. The house outside the city is the safest option.”

 

The tension is written clearly on Solas’ shoulders, but he stands up and gives Bull a half bow. “Until then, Bull.”

 

Standing up from the chair, Bull pats Solas’ back on his way to the door. Leaving without a single word, he walks directly to the little tent he has been assigned, waving to the team members or soldiers he finds on his way. The Inquisitor is talking with Cullen when he leaves the doors of Haven. The elf sees him and excuses himself with Cullen before joining Bull in front of his tent. Bull steps inside, smiling broadly, “Hey, Boss. Something on your mind?”

 

“Hey there.” The Inquisitor follows him inside of the tent, leaving the curtain fall behind him, closing them away from prying eyes for a moment. “I’m worried about Solas.”

 

Bull sits on his bunk, pulling out a big wooden box from under it. “You and me both, but I’m already working with him. Let’s see how relaxed you find him tomorrow.” Opening the box with the lid facing the Inquisitor, hiding the interior from him, Bull began to rummage inside, putting items off to the side for later. 

 

The Inquisitor waits some moments to see if the qunari will elaborate more his answer. When several seconds pass and the silence is deafening, the elf sighs, “Fine. Thanks for your help, Bull.”

 

“Anytime, Boss.” As soon as the elf leaves the tent, Bull puts the item he has selected on the bed. A few sets of silk rope, blood red. The colour will suit him. He selects some candles and a floral massage oil. Before closing the lid, a silver thread catches his eyes, and he smiles to himself, picking it and adding it to the collection of items. Storing the box again under the bed, he recovers a backpack from the corner, filling it with all the items, a pair of wine bottles and some food someone has left in his tent for the night. When everything is ready, he leaves the tent, bag hanging from a shoulder. But as soon as he steps outside, he crashes with Krem. “Already missing me, Krem de la creme?”

 

“Fuck you, Boss.”

 

Bull’s deep laugh makes some of the training soldiers stop their routines to look at him, “That’s the plan, Krem.”

 

The younger man joins him, shaking his head in disbelief. “You are incorrigible. Have fun, then. You are no good at talking when you have other things in mind.”

 

Nodding to him, Bull steps away from his tent, leaving Krem. “Before I forget! Try to keep the guys in good shape for tomorrow. We will decide when we march tomorrow and don’t want to drag any of you outside of the surgeon's tents.”

 

“Can’t promise it, Boss. You know that look. Have fun.”

 

With a wave of his hand, Bull takes the path that leads outside the city, waving to the soldiers he finds, exchanging words with whoever wanted to talk. At last, the lonely house appears in front of him. No one bothers to come here because the patrols didn’t frequently move around this area, and wolves and other wild animals roam freely outside it. Opening the door, the dark interior welcomes him. The sun is settling outside, and he uses the last rays of light to find his way inside the room, working diligently until he starts the fire on the fireplace. The bed sheets have some dust over them from the last days. He uses this abandoned house for his little escapades often enough to keep it with the feeling of habitation. Taking off the covers and sheets, he moves outside of the house, shaking them before making the bed hastily with them. The room is beginning to heat up thanks to the fire, and he smiles wickedly while moving a little table beside the bed, starting to unpack the items in his backpack on it. 

 

By the time Solas knocks at the door, Bull has everything ready, and a plan formed in his mind. Opening the door, he welcomes the mage inside.    
  
“Glad you made it, Solas. Let’s get a bite while we talk.” He has the table ready with the wine served and the food between them. And the chair he points Solas to sit has a direct line of vision to the little table beside the bed and the collection of items on it. The mage’s surprised eyes move from Bull to the red ropes behind him. Bull shakes his head, sitting comfortably on the bed and taking one of the mugs on his hand, nursing it before taking a gulp.    
  
“Drink with me, Solas. I added some fruit and spices to the wine and heated it. It’s the best way I know to make this shit taste acceptable.” Solas picks up the offered mug and take a sip. Bull is right, the bad taste of the bad wine gets covered by the sweet touch of the fruit and the cinnamon. “First of all. Rest assured I will never do anything to you that you didn’t want. I will ask and offer guidance, but the last world will always be you. A single word and I’ll stop completely, no questions, no arguments.” Bull waits until Solas has time to let the words sink into his mind. The soft nod the elf gives him enough answers. “My plan for the night is easy. You are always in control, you are always measured and reserved. I will take that from you. Tonight you will be mine to play with. I will tie you, I will torture you with pleasure, I will fill your mind with a fog of passion that will make you stop thinking.”

 

Solas feels the air get caught in his chest. Never has been talked like that before. No one has never asked him to surrender that way. And what surprises him more, he never has felt more ready to comply than now. Lowering his head, he fixes his face on his hands, sensing a warming sensation bloom in his chest. The idea of stopping being him, and just let his body talk and take what it needs is very tempting, but a little part of his mind can stop fighting against it, “I will bow to no one, the Iron Bull.”

 

“And who is talking about that? I know you don’t need that kind of interaction, and I will not seek it. Your mind will be yours, as your free will to accept whatever I do to you. I will take what I want from your body, and that action will free your mind.” Taking a piece of fruit from the table, Bull takes a bite from it, letting the idea dance on Solas’ brain for several seconds before keeping going. “The soldiers are on the battlefield. The question is, what are you going to do with them? We can just have a bite and return to Haven if you are not sure about it. But truly, Solas, after seeing how distracted have you becoming since we met some weeks ago, whatever is eating you has to be dealt with. You will put yourself, and the team travelling with you, in dire danger.”

 

The mage seems to ponder his words for several minutes, while Bull just sips his wine and eat some more from the tray in front of him. At last, taking a deep breath, Solas puts the cup he has been nursing on the table before fixing his gaze on Bull’s sharp eye. “I’ll do it, Iron Bull.”

 

With a little nod of his head, Bull leans back in the chair, crossing his legs in front of him in a more relaxed position. “Then let's begin. My art needs some time and can’t be hurried. Strip off your clothes and lay on the bed.”

 

The mage pushes back the chair, the sound of the wood dragging against the floor is the only one he can hear besides the little crackles of wood in the fireplace. Standing slowly, Solas takes the few steps that separate the table from the bed, stripping off his garments, folding them and leaving them over a chest in a corner. Before taking off the trousers, he looks back to Bull, who is still seating at the table with a little smirk on his face.    
  
Sensing the intense tension that limits the movement of his back seems to help Solas decide about the trousers, opening the closing and letting them fall to the ground. Soon, he is sitting on the bed, positioning the pillow to lay back, as Bull has asked. But when he returns his attention to the table, he is shocked to find the big qunari standing beside the bed, less than a foot from him. How in the Void this man can move as silently is beyond his understanding. But his mind stops dwelling on that thought when Bull’s big hand rests on his chest, pulling him down until he lays sprawled in the mattress with Bull looming over him.    
  
The qunari steps back, picking up one of the red cords and unfolding it, the sound of the longest part hitting the floor makes Solas jump. “Give me a hand.” The mage raises his left hand, and Bull takes it between his long fingers. His fingertips are calloused from years of yielding a weapon, but his movements are soft and languid. The red rope lays almost forgotten in his elbow while he massages Solas’ hand. His strong fingers press in the middle of the elf’s hand’s palm, drawing circles and pressing in some sensitive areas. When the muscles on his hand and wrist seem to relax, at last, Bull moves from the palm to the fingers, giving the same treatment to every one of them. 

 

By the time Bull finishes, Solas is already feeling utterly relaxed. The soothing silence, the sound of the fire, the distant howl of the wind over the mountains… and Bull. The qunari’s presence and his fortitude are like a balm for Solas’ mind. Lowering the massaged hand to Solas’ chest, Bull recovers the rope, measuring him and bending it by half, working on it until he has a beautiful form, something like a triskele. Picking up the hand again, he puts the loops on the knot he has created around the index, middle and ring finger, pulling the cord until the knot is securely fixed. Following the back of his hand, Bull surrounds the wrist with two loops, making the rope draw a perfect line from his knuckles to the wrist.    
  
After that, he separates the threads of the rope, moving one each side of his hand. Applying some force, but not enough to be painful, Bull tightens the rope around Solas’ forearm, crossing it every two inches, forming a pattern. Reaching the elbow, he fixes the cord with a pair of loops before following the same trail as before, reinforcing the strings and adding a loop on every crossing line. The pressure of the knots, added to the one of the cord, is making Solas’ arm go slightly numb but is not the same feeling you have when you fall asleep over your arm. Is more like a full relaxation of his hand and arm. The strong desire to let it fall to the bed until the sun arises is so big! Bull seems to feel it and smiles softly before lowering the hand to his chest. “I told you I’ll make you feel better, didn’t I?”    
  
Solas watches him as he picks another rope from the table before giving the same treatment to his other hand. Soon his two arms are covered with an intricate pattern, the blood red colour of the rope outstanding against his white skin. Taking both his hands, Bull pulls him up to a sitting position, making the mage totally aware of the tension on his back, now that a part of his body is relaxed. Sitting behind him, Bull picks the last red rope from the table, folding it in half. His big hands rest on Solas’ shoulders, making him shiver. “Try to stay calm and still. Whenever you feel you can’t handle it anymore, say the word, and I will stop.” 

 

When the shoulders under his fingers relax a degree, Bull ties the rope around his chest, fixing in his back before making another loop. His skin is hot and soft against Solas’ chest, making him shudder every time a knuckle or a finger touches his nipples. Bull works diligently, tugging here and there to secure the loops and keeps them from loosening. In a matter of minutes, Solas’ chest is framed with rope. A tight line of the material under his tits, another over it. Making him lay against his chest, Bull keeps working on the frontal part of the design. He passes a piece of rope between the two lines, pulling it and making the ropes already tightened around his chest to slide and change its shape, making him shiver. He can feel the smirk on Bull’s face against his cheek while the other man keeps interlacing lines of rope. Solas’ chest is overlaid with a complicated beehive design covering his upper chest, with two heavily knotted pieces of rope over his nipples, the material perfectly touching him with every breathe.    
  
Looking down to admire the handwork, Solas is the first surprised to see the hard erection resting against his thigh. It must have made some kind of sound because Bull’s hand move to caress his thighs, fingers half an inch away from where Solas want to be touched. “Do you want to keep going?”

 

Solas can’t even breathe properly, but his mind is not ready for the broken tone of his voice when he says a single word that makes Bull shudder behind him, “Please.”

 

Bull disentangles himself from behind Solas, letting him fall to the bed with a thud. The qunari moves to kneel between his legs. Taking one of them in his hands, he is happy to see that the muscles are already relaxed under his fingers, giving him the chance to move directly to tie him up. Bending the leg until the knee is in line with the hipbone, he grabs his arm, resting the forearm on the thigh before taking the rope hanging from his hand and beginning to tie the leg. The lines of rope tightened harder than before, making Solas hum with every thug of Bull’s hands. Bull takes the time to knot the rope in a sinuous design, with the lines of the blood red material are twisted between them, and braided before he surrounds the leg and fixes it on one the of loops on the arm.    
  
The hardness of Solas’ member keeps growing, and the mage can feel a drop of precome running free across his abs. When Bull finishes with the leg, the mage lays on display in front of him. The way he has knotted the leg and the arm force the mage to keep the hips raised, cock resting on his belly, with thigh veins covering it. Bull barely controls the growl that wants to leave his body. Having this man in this position is getting him hotter than planned.    
  
Letting his hands roam over his free leg, Bull plays a bit with him, enjoys the little shivers and the goosebumps that appear under his touch. Taking up the leg, he repeats the process until the mage is laying on his back, hips raised, offering himself, with the red lines of rope panting his body. Looking to the mage, he can see clearly as the light in the fireplace that the stoic man is already basking in the subspace. 

 

Smiling to himself, Bull leaves the bed, enjoying too much the little whine the bald man does. “Just relax for me, Solas. I’ll be back soon.” Standing near the bed, Bull begins to undress, the hardness of his own member  painful under the clothes. He takes his time to take off the brace on his leg, massaging the reddened skin that the metallic parts always leave in their wake. Once naked, he just stays beside the bed, waiting until Solas’ breath is even again. 

 

At last, he picks up the rest of the items from the table and returns between Solas’ legs. The mage gasps when he feels Bull’s hands on his calves, thumbs drawing soothing patterns on his skin. He let his fingers follow the lines of rope up until he reaches the hipbones. Keeping the movement, he traces the curves of Solas’ body with his fingertips, making the man under his touch moan when he reaches the sack of his balls. Taking the balls in hand, he massages them with a hand while the other wraps his long fingers around the stiff member. “I’m gonna tie you up so beautiful…”The ball on his hands pulls away, recovering the silver thread from the bed.    
  
Before Solas can really understand what’s happening, Bull ties the rope around the base of his cock, enough to keep him from coming but not from dying from the pleasure the movement of his hands is giving him. Bull captures the sack with a loop of rope, doing a little twist of the material to part the balls inside of it. Adding some extra loops around the cock until half of it is covered in a net pattern. The rest of the rope is then fixed to the knots in his thighs, making the cock shiver with every tiny convulsion of the caged legs. Bull takes a moment to admire his handiwork, while Solas pants and bites his lip to keep the moans at bay. 

 

With both hands resting on his knees, Bull uses a finger to follow the lines of rope around Solas’ cock. “We call it Shibari, the art of knotting. This—“ He tights one of the knots on the rope, making the other man mewl, “Karadas are positioned in places that will intensify every single touch of the rope against your skin.” Lowering his head, Bull laps the tip of Solas’ dick, tasting the precum in it, “And you, my friend, had the luck to be with a master of the art. But now—“ Bull’s hand deserted Solas’ body, moving to recover the jar of scented oil, the sound of the cork opening making Solas shiver like a leaf in the wind. Coating his fingers with it, Bull moves them under Solas’ sack, thumb caressing it while he applies some pressure in the perineum area. “You know what I’m planning to do. I’ll keep going unless you say me otherwise.”    
  
The only answer Solas can think of his actual state is a low and wanton moan. Bull takes it all, a groan escaping his stern control finally when he lets the finger slide down until he finds the little hole in the other man’s body. Using his free hand, Bull lowers his upper body until his mouth is hovering over Solas’ cock, taking the tip inside his mouth while he pushes a finger inside him. Solas' back arches with pleasure, voice out of his control when he begins to moan loudly, the sound mixed with words in elvish. Bull uses his tongue against the back of his cock to ease the discomfort every time he delved deeper inside of him. Soon he needs to take him almost entirely in his mouth to keep the pain away when he adds a second and a third finger in the waiting hole.

 

Bull keep the pace for several minutes, enjoying the trembling of the body under him, and the vocalisation of his pleasure. It always amazes him how sometimes the silent ones are the more emphatic during sex. Letting the cock slide from his mouth, the stiff member boobed over Solas’ abs while the man whines, Bull’s fingers keep working on the hole, getting him ready for the next stage. With a last deep push, Bull lets his fingertips touch that sweet spot inside the other man, making him swear in elvish with a high pitch, precum pooling in his belly. The smirk on the qunari’s face can’t hide how turned on he was with all the situation. Pulling off his fingers, at last, he recovers the oil jar, fingers dipping inside before coating his pulsing cock with the scented liquid. Closing the jar with his clean hand, Bull forces Solas’ body to slide over the sheets, closing the distance to his hips until the hardness of his member is pressed against the corded one.    
  
The mage, who usually has a retort ready for everything, is so lost in the haze of pleasure that he even can’t articulate a single word in the common tongue. Bull opens his legs, securing his position before positioning his thick member in the other man entrance. Using his free hand, he interlaces his fingers with the cording on Solas’ chest, keeping him in place before beginning to push inside, grunting when the muscles on his hole pressed his cock. Solas moans and gasps, the pain a tearing one, but mixed with a high level of pleasure, filling his brain with a mix of feelings that overwhelms him.  Pushing until his hips are flat against the other man’s butt, Bull keeps himself buried inside, giving Solas time to get accustomed to the girth of his member. When the frown in his face relaxes a bit, Bull let his fingers slide from the ropes in his chest, going down until he grabs the red cords around the legs. Pulling them up and making him moan when the change of angle makes the cock inside him touch the secret spot inside him, Bull fixes the hips in the position he wants them before moving again, first with slow motions, dragging Solas with him, pleasure written clearly on the elf’s face. 

 

Bull keeps the pace for several minutes, gaining speed slowly, feeling his own pleasure grown inside of him. Freeing his hands from Solas’ legs, Bull opens, even more, his legs before grabbing the ropes in Solas’ chest and pulling up until he makes Solas sit on his cock, making the man scream his name. Wrapping a hand around his waist and keeping him pinned against his chest, Bull holds a hand on one of his legs while he enters him deeper than ever. 

 

Solas' head falls back, the moans that leave his mouth gaining a desperate feeling. His voice sounds raspy and broken when he tries to speak, “Please, Bull, I need--”

 

Bull knows what he is asking for, and with a growl, he put him down again, cock still buried deep inside of him. His deft fingers find the silver thread tied in his legs, loosening the knots and pulling the rope until just the loop around the base of his cock keeps its original pressure. “Brace yourself, Solas. I’m gonna rock your world.” Solas lays on his back, sprawled over the dishevelled sheets, with Bull towering over him. Moving his hips up, Bull bends him almost in half, resting almost all the weight in his shoulder blades. His cock is pulsing inside the other man, waiting for the moment of release while he works his body to the edge of pleasure. When he pushes inside again, Solas’ needy moan makes Bull’s desire peak, grabbing the bald man’s hips with force enough to mark his skin when he pushes hard and deep inside of him. Repeating the movement several times, he feels his cock twitch, balls ready to unload inside the deeps of Solas. With a grunt, Bull buries himself as deep as possible while his free hands loosen the last piece of rope around Solas’ cock. The other man comes immediately, lines of white semen painting his chest, adding a new layer of colour to the paint that is his body. Bull follow him soon enough, the muscles on his ass milking him to completion with almost painful pressure. 

 

Several seconds pass while they recover their breathing, but at last, Bull pulls away, helping Solas’ body to lay more comfortably. Deft fingers work diligently to unknot the ropes around his legs, freeing one and then the other, massaging the muscles before putting them down into the sheets. Solas is breathing laboured while Bull keeps working in taking off the layers and layers of rope around his skin. The one in his chest gets problematic because the elf is in no condition to keep seating while Bull works in the knots. With a soft chuckle, Bull searches for his belt near the bed, recovering the little knife and sliding it under the knots, cutting them and making Solas twitch when he feels the cold metal of the blade over his skin. 

 

Once the body is free of rope, Bull stands up from the bed, moving to the fireplace and heating the water with the raging fire before dipping the corner of a rag in it. Returning to the bed, he cleans Solas’s body, washing away the come from his chest and cock, and taking special care to clean his hole, being as careful as possible. Once finished, he lets the rag fall to the ground before recovering the jar of scented oil again, using it to massage and relax even more the sore muscles of Solas’ prone form. 

 

Not a single word is said for the next half an hour, while Solas’ brain recovers, at a slow pace, the ability to function again. Bull is sitting beside him, hands caressing him and keeping him grounded. 

 

At last, Solas comes back from the cloud of pleasure he has been since they begun, fixing his gaze on Bull with a satisfied smile plastered on his face. “Thank you, Iron Bull.”

 

Seeing that the mage is feeling himself again, Bull pats his shoulder before he stands, picking up the pants and getting dressed. “Anytime, Solas. You know where to find me.” He walks to the door after putting on the boots and turning to face the bed before opening it, “Keep the ropes, if you want. Red suits you.” With a wink, he leaves the cabin, leaving behind him a relaxed Solas and maybe a future partner. He is sure as the Inquisitor has pointy ears that that man can surely use that kind of distraction. Whistling to himself, Bull walks back to Haven, brace in hand and a steady pace to keep the pain at bay.

 

Tomorrow they will talk about the Breach. Maybe tomorrow will be the last day of this so-called Inquisition, or the first day of a new phase of the nightmare. He will be ready, whatever it comes.


End file.
